CLOVIS WANTED TO FLY DIRECTLY BACK TO DC, BUT I insisted we spend the night in New Orleans so we could meet with Royce and Thibodeaux. Besides, the guys had earned a night in the Quarter.
We met the next morning in a conference room at the Royal Orleans. Tom greeted us with a smile and offered coffee from a silver pot as well as tiny croissants and beignets. After the usual niceties, he turned to Royce, who hadn’t said a word, waving away even the beignets.
Clearly angry, Royce went after Clovis almost immediately. Why hadn’t Clovis contacted him when he found out where Abby and I were? Royce wanted to take care of the kidnappers without involving the FBI. He kept shouting that my abduction wasn’t anyone’s business but the syndicate’s. Clovis kept his cool, totally unruffled by Royce’s verbal onslaught. Thibodeaux didn’t stop him, so I let him vent for a while. His reaction was exactly why Clovis hadn’t included him in his plans. The last thing either of us wanted was for the kidnappers to be found at the bottom of some swamp with their throats cut.
When Royce finally calmed down, I told them what I had learned—there was a traitor in their ranks who thought Thibodeaux should be replaced as the head of the syndicate. I repeated word-for-word what my gun-pointing kidnapper had told me. I expected the big man to explode, but his poker face gave away nothing. Royce peppered me with questions, but Tom remained silent.
When Royce finally ran out of questions, Tom raised his hand and spoke quietly.
“Jack, I hope you will accept my apologies. I want you to know that I never, not even for one minute, thought you had left New Orleans on your own volition. I am horrified to think what you have been through these last few days. Without Dr. Broussard’s timely rescue, you would surely be dead. You came to New Orleans as my guest, and my men failed to protect you. They will be dealt with appropriately. My organization has become sloppy. That will change.” He glanced at Royce who swallowed hard.
“Now that you’ve made me aware of the situation, I will take every step necessary to protect my family and my organization. I will not forget your bravery or your service.”
“Thank you,” I responded. “I do have one favor to ask. I owe my life to Dr. Broussard. As you noted, I’m alive, standing here with you, because of her. I feel sure she’s returned to her home on the bayou, ready to continue her research. But I’m concerned for her continued safety.”
Thibodeaux raised his hand, palm forward. “Say no more. You can be sure she will be able to live her life and conduct her research in total safety.”
Tom was a man of few words, but now I could leave Louisiana knowing Abby was under his umbrella of protection. Considering what I owed her, it was the least I could do.
Turning to Royce, Tom smiled. “Royce, I would like to spend a few minutes alone with Jack. Perhaps you could offer Mr. Jones a second cup of coffee.”
Royce looked uncomfortable but didn’t argue. Tom opened a door to what I had assumed was a closet but turned out to be a smaller room furnished with only two club chairs. We both sat down, and I waited.
“Something is worrying you, Jack,” he stated calmly. “Something you didn’t want Royce to hear.”
Tom was more insightful than I had realized.
“The people who hired those thugs will surely be angry when they learn I’m alive and that I still intend to represent your grandson. I’m afraid they might target my daughter.”
“I have already foreseen that possibility. Your daughter and her fiancé will be safe, as safe as if they were my own children. I’ve sent a specialist to St. Louis, a person who can raise the level of security they already enjoy. Royce is aware of your concern for your family. So—please tell me what is really bothering you.”
Thibodeaux had read my mind, and for the next half-hour I told him what concerned me. He listened carefully, interrupting only to ask for clarification. When I finished, he remained silent, as did I.
“Your suspicions and concerns speak well of you. What you and I have discussed will remain between us until we talk again.”
When we returned to the larger room, we found Clovis sipping his coffee and Royce pacing back and forth.
Our conversation was at an end, so I thanked Tom for putting us up at the Royal Orleans last night and for treating the guys to dinner at Dickie Brennan’s. I mentioned that we’d like to stop by Theo’s on Magazine to get pizza and wings for the plane ride home. That got his attention.
“How on earth do you know about Theo’s? My wife gets take-out at least once a week. She always orders the Expert.”
“Excellent choice,” I replied as Clovis opened the door and we walked into the lobby. Let him wonder, I thought. I was ready to go home.
Thankfully, the flight to DC was uneventful. While we munched on pizza, Clovis told me what I’d missed while I “was enjoying the scenery in Cajun country.” Brian tried to bring me up to date on office matters, but I couldn’t seem to focus.
My mind wandered to the kidnappers. Who had hired them? I personally knew several of the lawyers representing the internet companies. I couldn’t begin to imagine them condoning a kidnapping, much less murder. I also couldn’t believe the government was involved. Why bother? They could easily drown me with paperwork.
I also thought about the extra protection that Tom was providing for Beth and Jeff. Was that favor a black hole sucking me further into an obligation I could never repay?
And what as it about David’s small company that had caused such an extreme reaction? Internet companies use tried and true methods to crush competition. If they couldn’t destroy David, why wouldn’t they simply buy him out? And the government could easily make mincemeat out of any small business that caught its eye. Indicting David and seizing his business was surely a bit dramatic.
Clovis tapped me on the shoulder. “Hey, anyone home in there? I bet a dollar to a doughnut you’re daydreaming about Abby Broussard and wishing you were still with her in her fortress on the bayou, storm or no storm.”
For once, I had no answer.